The Subway

  By

  Jack Ryan

  .

  Also from Jack Ryan

  The Mystery Caller

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  It was still dark when I woke up. The electronic clock on the bedside table indicated it was just after two.

  The woman next to me moaned. I turned around and looked at the beauty. Naked olive skin, smooth legs, perfect body. Her face snuggled into the pillow as long raven hair was a bit messy after the action we had.

  She was the type of woman who can keep a man young for eternity.

  She was also my partner. I had known her for many years. Ever since our days in the academy. But it took longer for us to start sleeping together. Cost both our marriages. Few men will be able to resist her.

  Suddenly my phone rang.

  “What the fuck?” I murmured as I strolled over to the vibrating cell phone, flashing lights like it was a disco light. “Who the fuck would be calling this time of night?” Cursing was my habit. At least I was whispering.

  Chloe tossed and turned a few times on the bed. For a second, I contemplated letting the phone jut ring. Then, to get into the bed, wake her up and pound her one more time. Nothing beat early morning sex.

  In hindsight, that was a better option.

  The number was unknown, and I expected some giggles and the immediate end of the prank call. I let it vibrate a few more times, and then swiped the green button to accept the call. “Murdock,” I answered the phone and glanced out towards the empty street below. Everything and everyone were still asleep.

  There was a pause. I could hear the faint sound of breathing.

  “Detective Murdock speaking.”

  “Two hundred people will die in thirty minutes.” The voice was cold.

  So cold it brought a shiver down my spine. I had met some of the most brutal and sadistic fuckers in my line of business. None of them made me feel like this.

  “Say what?” I said and glanced over to Chloe. She was still asleep.

  The voice paused a moment, “You heard me detective. Two hundred people will die.”

  I shrugged off the shivers. “Listen is this the might shift team? Jonesy? Is that you?”

  Again, the voice paused, “No detective this is not Jonesy. I do not know a Jonesy. But I do know who you are detective Murdock. I also know you are fucking your partner, detective Gomez. I also know that you care deeply about your city. I will say it again. Two hundred people will die.”

  “Where?” I asked, questioning if this was for real.

  The voice paused again.

  I scratched the back of my head. “Where! Dammit!” I raised my voice.

  Chloe moaned. I stepped out of the room towards the kitchen.

  “It won’t be that easy detective. I will be straight with you. I like to play games.”

  “Then why did you call me you piece of shit? Why did you not call 911 and get the whole fucking police force to play your games. I don’t like playing games. And I don’t like scumbags. So fuck off.”

  There was silence.

  I wanted to put down the phone. But the coldness of his voice kept me captivated.

  “Because you are the only hope the two hundred people have. I want you to leave your phone.”

  “Why?” I asked and felt a gnawing fear.

  “You won’t need it. And because there is a phone waiting for you on your front step.”

  I looked towards the front door and rushed towards it. I fumbled the keys, but eventually managed to open it. I ran down the stairs covering the three floors in record time.

  Through the large glass doors, I saw a brown paper bag. Coldness shot against my naked chest as I exited the building. I blew on my hands before I picked up the bag and glanced inside. A cellphone was inside ringing.

  I accepted the call but said nothing.

  “Good, now place your old phone in the bag.”

  “Why?” I knew I was dealing with a serious player.

  “The little red dot on your chest is telling you to do as you are told detective.”

  I saw the dot. Reluctantly, I threw my phone in the paper bag. He was a serious player.

  “Get dressed detective. Don’t wake your partner. Don’t get back-up. Get dressed. Get yourself over to subway platform five.” The voice instructed.

  “What about Chloe?”

  The voice paused, “What about her?”

  “I can’t leave her? What if you…”

  “I won’t hurt her detective. Not the game I play. The 200 other people is a different story detective. I won’t hesitate to kill them.”

  I moved back inside the building. The red dot disappeared. I searched for the origins. But only saw the dark silhouettes of buildings.

  “But…” I protested.

  “But…” The voice interrupted, “You have twenty-seven minutes. Make your decision.”

  The phone went dead. I tried to dial back, but was unable to. No airtime.

  I rushed towards my apartment. As I stormed back in the door, I froze when I saw Chloe.

  “Hank?”

  “Sorry baby, did I wake you?” I asked and looked at her.

  “Yeah?” She said and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. The white sheet fitted her body like a glove. “Who called you this late? Why did you go outside?”

  “Just an uncle of mine,” I lied. “My cousin was arrested.”

  “For what?”

  I glanced at my watch. Twenty-five minutes. “Driving under the influence. He is a minor. They are at Precinct 28. I am gonna sort it out.”

  Chloe nodded. She understood my desire to help. She stepped forward and gave me a hug. Then she kissed me and whispered, “Hurry back. I want to suck and fuck you once more before our shift starts.”

  “I will,” I said and felt my manhood grow. I started to contemplate that this was one sick joke and that screwing Chloe was a much better proposition.

  She took my dick in her hand. “Better go and save you cousin.” Then she turned, left me standing there and seductively strolled over to the bed. “See you later.”

  I wanted to follow her. To fuck her. But instead the phone beeped. I received a text message.

  Twenty-three minutes detective. No one will survive.

  I rushed into the room and threw a quick pair of jeans and a white T-shirt over my body. Took my service pistol and badge from my bedside table and kissed Chloe on the cheek. “I will keep the door locked” I took her service pistol and placed on the bedside table. “Keep this close,”

  “Why?”

  I hesitated and tried to smile, “Rough neighborhood.”

  She moaned.

  I left the apartment. The brown bag gone from the front steps.

  By the time, I reached the street, my new phone rang again.

  “I am glad you made it out of the apartment.” The cold voice said.

  I felt a new chill. “How long have you been watching me?”

  The voice laughed. A sinister laugh. The type of a madman on a serial killer television show.

  I was getting mad. With the phone pressed against my ear, I rushed towards Platform five. At least it was only two blocks from my apartment building. “I asked are you watching me?”

  “I am always watching you detective Murdock.”

  My lungs burned as I crossed the street, only one more block to go, “Are you like in god of something?”

  The voice laughed again, “No detective. No god. Just a well prepared professional.”

  “Professional what?” I asked and saw the Platform five sign in the distance.

  “Just a professional. One who loves games. Time is ticking detective.”

  The phone went dead.

  “Fuck!” I shouted and was almost at the platform entry. For a moment, I hesitated. I feared for Chloe again. What if he came for her? I knew she was capable of handling herself. But what if. What if this was only a ploy to get me out of the apartment? I shook the thought from my head. If it was Chloe she would not hesitate to save the lives of 200 people.

  Twenty minutes.

  I hesitated again. Convinced myself that Chloe would be alright. If only I could phone a patrol car. I took a deep gasp of air and ran down the long flight of stairs.

  By the time I reached Platform five, my phone had beeped once more.

  Eighteen minutes.

  Apart from some homeless man and a young couple, the platform was empty. Was this a joke? I answered immediately. The phone rang.

  “Detective, glad you made it. However, platform five is just the second leg of your investigation.”

  I felt my blood boil, “Listen you piece of…”

  “No need for name calling detective. I assure you, you have fifteen minutes left to save 200 people. Only thing is you will need to run down the track.”

  “Sure,” I said and rolled my eyes. A headache pounded my skull. “And soon a train will come and run me down.”

  The voice groaned, “Detective. Again if I wanted you dead I would have done so already. Now, look around.” The voice took a breath. It sounded as if it was walking, “You will see tunnel H. If you enter the tunnel you will see it is being repaired. No train will come clos

e.”

  I started to move towards tunnel H. “Why are you doing this?”

  The voice laughed, “You will soon see detective. I hope you brought a flashlight.”

  “I always do,” I said.

  “I know.”

  The phone went dead. But was followed up with a text message.

  Thirteen minutes

  My stomach churned as I entered the darkness. My flashlight gave me a clear line of sight for about ten yards. It looked ominous. Scary. Out of some twisted movie. It was dead silent as I moved into the darkness. My mind raced. For a moment, I wanted to pinch myself. Was this just a sick nightmare? Was I still asleep and would I wake up next to my naked goddess?

  I almost did pinch myself.

  Almost, if it was not for the sudden screams that bounced off the walls.

  Not ordinary screams.

  Children.

  “My god.” I sprinted forward. With each step, the cries became louder. I was unable to see. The flashlight swung back and forth as I ran as fast as my legs could carry me.

  Then the screams stopped.

  Suddenly.

  Dead silence.

  I slowed down. Panted for air. The steel from the tracks popped cold air over my wet body. I wiped the sweat from my brow as I raised my gun and flashlight, searching the darkness for nothing.

  My phone beeped.

  Eight Minutes. Tick Tock.

  I felt helpless as I took a few steps forward. My breathing normalized somewhat.

  “If you took children. I will hunt you to the end of the earth.” I whispered. I blinked my eyes. Felt relief. The light lit up the contours of a train.

  “Yeah?” I answered my ringing phone. I knew it was him.

  “Time is almost up detective.”

  “I am here.”

  “Good.”

  “Now what?” I asked as the back of the train was now touching distance from me. The cries from little children started again. “What now!” I screamed as I jumped on the small ladder and climbed up. The back door locked. I aimed and blasted it open.

  “Now you save them. Three minutes detective.”

  I glanced around, “What is waiting for me inside? Is it a bomb?”

  “What do you think?”

  “I think it is a bomb?” I said.

  “Then look for a bomb.” The voice said with mischief in his voice.

  The phone call ended.

  I rushed into the first carriage. It was empty. I pointed the flashlight and gun down the corridor seeing the endless rows of darkness. My eyes widen. I saw a head. In fact, there were a lot of heads, at the outermost brim of the light.

  “I am coming!” I shouted and sprinted forward.

  My heart raced. I felt the phone vibrate against my chest. I knew there were only two minutes left. I started to see more heads. The screams became nearer and louder. I was one more door away when I stopped dead.

  “What the fuck?” I whispered out of breath, and slowly walked towards the last carriage. As I opened the door, I felt sick. Conflicted. I glanced around, pointing my gun and flashlight over what seemed like the two hundred child victims.

  Mannequins.

  Fucking mannequins. I kicked over the first few and blew off some steam.

  In the center, I saw a tape recorder and immediately knew that was the source of the sound.

  The phone rang. I turned away and started to walk back. “Mannequins.” I said.

  The voice was low and cold, “So you got there in time.”

  “Yes numb fuck. I did. In time to save the Mannequins.” I said and whipped the sweat from my forehead. My hand was shaking.

  “You did not look for a bomb?”

  “No shit head,” I said. “Time is up. And I reckon, like you said before if you wanted to kill me you would have done it already. Thanks for the prank. But know this, I will come after you.”

  “No one ever said anything about this being a prank, detective. I know you will try to come after me. It is the nature of your beast. As for me. Well, let’s just say the I have one different animal inside me. But first take a look at this.”

  I felt the world spin. “What?”

  “Hold on detective. I am sending you a picture.”

  I waited and heard a soft beep. I flung the phone down and went to the message inbox. My eyes widen. It was Chloe. Naked and tied to my bed.

  “I will…”

  The voice snorted, “You will what detective? It took you thirty minutes to sprint towards the train. Even if I take off the seven minutes it took you to get out of the apartment it leaves me with twenty-three minutes with the beautiful detective Gomez.”

  I heard Chloe’s muffled sounds in the background.

  “I will call a patrol car…” I said. Feeling helpless.

  “Good idea detective. However, your phone cannot call out.”

  My legs were numb. I wanted to sprint but stood there dumbstruck. “I swear if you hurt her.”

  “If I hurt her?” The Voice laughed loud. “No detective, I am going to hurt her and then I will kill her. I need ten minutes to do it. To make sure that she endures enough pain. But before I do that I need five minutes to fuck her first. Have a good run. You won’t make it in time.”

  “Why?” My voice trembled.

  “I told you I love to play games.”

  “Fuck you,” I screamed.

  The voice paused. I heard Chloe scream. “No detective. Fuck you.”

  The phone went dead.

  I screamed and started to sprint.

  Copyright Jack Ryan 2014

  This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to a person, living or dead is fictional. Please respect the authors work and do not copy or reproduce.

  Join my mailing list by clicking the link below. I will not give you some bullshit gift to make you join my list. If you like my stuff join the list. If you don’t, don’t. Up to you. My list will be used to keep you updated on news, books and my rants. Your decision. No Bullshit just value.

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  This is a short story. If you like it please give a review. If you don’t, please read the disclaimer again or give a review/return.

  Also from Jack Ryan

  The Mystery Caller

 

 

  Jack Ryan, Subway (A Jack Ryan Thriller)

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